Thus, it is historically articulated with respect to representation: Jacob selected fresh branches from poplar, almond, and sycamore trees, peeled off their bark, allowing the white sap to show through while the untouched parts remained green. Consequently, the branches displayed a duel of colors. As Scripture narrates, Jacob placed them in troughs where the livestock drank, offering him a visual understanding. The herds, upon gazing at these rods, conceived and produced offspring that were mottled, speckled, and spotted. What, then, is the meaning of showing the livestock ‘green branches’ if not to present through Scripture the examples of the faithful, the lives and virtues of the patriarchs, who, due to their steadfast righteousness, are likened to ‘branches’? The peeling of the bark symbolizes the unveiling of their inner purity, while the remaining bark signifies the visible righteousness reflected in their actions. The mottling of the branches suggests that the examples of the faithful are manifested before us as variegated rods, wherein we often delve deeply into the literal sense and thus shed the bark—revealing the inner truth of the allegory—while at other times, we engage with the letter and preserve its outward form. Jacob wisely placed these images ‘in watering troughs,’ for our Savior has similarly placed them in the sacred scriptures that nourish our spiritual thirst. Just as the rams mix with the ewes by gazing at them, our spiritual reflections, when focused earnestly, intermingle with specific actions, birthing a synthesis of works that embodies both the commandments expressed in words and the principles reflected in deeds, sometimes stripping away the textual bark to unveil the inner truth, while at other times retaining the layers of historical context that unveil the outer significance.
Divine proclamations frequently necessitate both internal and external examinations. Hence Solomon declares, “He that presseth hard upon the udder to get milk squeezes out butter; and he that tormenteth more fiercely is blood.” We ‘press hard against the udder’ when we contemplate the words of Holy Revelation, and thus, while seeking ‘milk,’ we discover ‘butter’—a rich anointing of spiritual abundance. However, we ought not to press too much, lest in our pursuit of nourishment, we draw forth blood. Too often, an individual, through excessive scrutiny of Holy Revelation, may stumble into carnal doubts. To ‘receive blood’ denotes one who, upon harsh examination, regresses into the flesh, attempting to draw out a purely spiritual meaning from certain words. As such, we must approach the debates of the blessed Job—who responds to the harsh critiques of his companions for fear his afflicted soul might succumb to despair—with a historical mindset, avoiding excessive spiritual interpretations, lest we ‘receive blood’ instead of ‘milk.’ Yet, should his narrative occasionally reveal mystical insights, the mind must swiftly grasp the intended spiritual significance.
In recounting his misfortunes from God, he also recounts his virtues, indicating that he maintained a noteworthy life prior to his afflictions; nonetheless, he sporadically introduces allegorical imagery to elevate our understanding. By forcefully linking his external behavior to the guidance of inward preservation, he asserts, “I have made a covenant with mine eyes, that I should not even think of a maiden.”
As the soul, though unseen, endures the trials of the body—tied to it as the bodily senses serve as open portals—seeing, hearing, tasting, and touching represent expressions of the mind. Through these corporeal senses, the soul perceives external objects, and upon seeing them, begins to yearn for them. Thus Jeremiah observes that “death enters in through our windows, invades our chambers,” signifying that “death” infiltrates our mental space when desires traverse the bodily senses. This differs from Isaiah’s words of affirmation regarding the righteous: “Who are these that fly like clouds, and like doves to their windows?” For the righteous, rising above earthly filth, are portrayed as ‘clouds’ having no affinity for the earthly while their spiritual inclinations remain untainted. Conversely, one who carelessly gazes through these sensory windows often finds himself unintentionally ensnared by sin’s allure, awakening desires for things previously unconsidered.
The negligent soul, oblivious to the need for caution, can be led by carnal temptation to pursue what should remain unbidden. Hence, the prophet, who had been awakened to deeper inner mysteries, fell into darkness when he carelessly gazed at another man’s wife. Yet the virtuous individual, embodying the role of a stern guardian over his bodily senses, identifies temptations before they arise and fortifies his senses, declaring, “I have made a covenant with my eyes.” He pledges to avoid even the initial careless glance, knowing that such actions can lead to unbidden desires. The relentless pull of the flesh is significant; the captivating imagery impressed upon the heart by means of the eyes is arduous to disentangle from the heart’s grip. Therefore, it is crucial to adopt strict measures, avoiding sights that evoke lustful thoughts, so that purity of heart may be preserved. Eve would not have reached for the forbidden fruit had she not first gazed upon it; as Scripture reveals, “the woman saw that the tree was good for food, and that it was pleasant to the eyes, and a tree to be desired.”
Thus, we realize how imperative it is for us, as we live in this earthly life, to exercise control over our gaze, especially when Eve, the mother of all life, succumbed to death through her own sight. Similarly, regarding Judah, who, captivated by outward allure, forfeited inner blessings, the prophet laments, “The depth of the eye has robbed my heart.” Desire, drawn by what is seen, leads to a loss of invisible virtues, resulting in the heart being stripped of its inward fruits due to the external allurements witnessed. To maintain the sanctity of the heart, we must regulate our outward senses. Regardless of the intellect’s potential sublime state or the fortifications it may possess, the unrestrained carnal senses readily pull the soul towards transitory desires.
Let us observe blessed Job, safeguarded by the wisdom that separates him from earthly influences, from all that the flesh inevitably clings to whimsically. He states, “I have made a covenant with my eyes,” and he does not silence merely the actions but also the thoughts of lust within himself, asserting, “lest I should even think of a maiden.” He grasps the need to uproot lust from the heart and acknowledges that our Redeemer, at His Coming, would transcend mere Law observance, forbidding not only physical lust but also those thoughts, instructing, “For you have heard that it was said, Thou shalt not commit adultery; but I say unto you, that whosoever looketh upon a woman to lust after her hath committed adultery already.”
Moses addressed acts of lust, whereas the Creator recognizes the condemnation of mere desires. For this reason, the Church’s first shepherd admonishes his followers, “Therefore gird up the loins of your mind,” articulating the importance of vigilance. To ‘gird the loins’ of the flesh involves restraining actions of lust, while to ‘gird the loins of the mind’ requires prohibiting fanciful pleasures. The angel speaking to John appears ‘girded with a golden girdle,’ a representation of New Testament purity that asserts restraint even in heart's desires. He who is appropriately bound by this golden girdle, a citizen of the heavenly realm, renounces earthly gains—not from dread of punishment but motivated by love of grace. Lust desires to manifest either in thought or action, for our cunning adversary, once thwarted in actions, aims to contaminate our secret thoughts. This is embodied in the Lord’s declaration to the serpent, “Thou shalt crawl upon his breast and belly,” where ‘the serpent crawling on the belly’ signifies the enemy stirring lust through actions, while ‘crawling upon the breast’ indicates when he corrupts those unable to sin actively.
Thus we see that if one indulges in lustful deeds, he embodies the serpent crawling on his belly, whereas, should a man merely entertain lustful imaginings, he bears the serpent on his breast. Given that thoughts lead to actions, the serpent is appropriately termed first ‘crawling on the breast’ and subsequently ‘on the belly.’ Consequently, blessed Job, by asserting discipline in thought, remains vigilant against the serpent’s approaches, affirming, “I have made a covenant with my eyes, that I should not even think of a maiden.” Yet, for the purity of heart, which is beyond purchase, one must progress from self to the Creator of purity. Therefore, Job, in this reflection, points to this divine source directly.
THEOSIS